The Inner Seas Kingdoms: 05 - Journey to Uniontown

by Jeffrey Quyle

  Kestrel didn’t recognize anyone they met, nor was he recognized from his previous short visit to the city, but his emerging elven features were so similar to Wren’s that they were asked if they were siblings.

  “Heavens no!” Wren denied. “Can you imagine growing up with him in your house?”

  “It would have been terrible for you to have been beaten at weapons training every day if we had grown up together,” Kestrel mildly agreed, and the mutual challenges devolved into a long, grueling series of battles that left them both dripping with sweat, and sore from multiple wounds inflicted during their hours of combat with one another.

  When they returned to the embassy at noon, Creata was awake, and anxious for them to get cleaned up. “We need to take Kestrel to court and let him speak to Ruelin. The prince will want to know about Moorin’s decision, and he’ll have to figure out how to explain it to the court. I’ve already sent a note indicating that you’ve arrived,” he told Kestrel

  Kestrel took a hurried bath, and dressed in the fine new clothes that Creata had sent to his room, preparing him for an appearance in the prince’s court. Together, the quartet climbed into Creta’s carriage and rode through the streets to the palace gates.

  “Is it true you’re bringing Kestrel, the palace fighter, back to visit the court?” they heard the guards at the gate ask the carriage driver when they arrived at the entrance to the palace.

  “That’s right mate,” the driver said. “He came back, just like I always said he would,” the driver said reassuringly, and they felt the carriage lurch through the gates. Minutes later they were ushered up to a sitting room in a corridor that Kestrel vaguely recognized from his times in the palace.

  “Lord Kestrel, would you come with me please?” one of the functionaries of the court asked as he entered the sitting room, and he showed Kestrel down the hall to a separate room, where Kestrel stood alone and looked out the window at the gardens of the palace. He saw the greenhouse where he had killed so many of the Viathins, along with Wren and the imps, during his bitterly fought struggle for survival in the palace.

  “Kestrel, welcome back,” he heard Ruelin’s voice a second after the door opened behind him. “It’s good to see that body you lent to me is still in good shape, though perhaps a bit thin,” the prince smiled. “I remember it fondly.”

  “It is a little more battered and bruised than it was when you occupied it,” Kestrel replied, as he likewise critically examined Ruelin’s body. “You seem to have been treating yours well these past few weeks, your highness,” he belatedly added the title.

  “Have a seat,” Ruelin directed, and they sat down by a small fireplace. “Tell me what you know.”

  “The world is a better place,” Kestrel said simply. “The god of the Viathins is dead, and the monsters themselves should mostly be dead by now as well. Their influence is gone.

  “I hope that the wars they started from Uniontown are now all over, and peace can return to the Inner Seas,” Kestrel summed up.

  “Their god is dead! The whole race is dying! Those are extraordinary claims! What happened?” Ruelin asked, causing Kestrel to give a very abbreviated version of his battle in the Western Mountains.

  “So you did rescue Moorin? And is she coming here soon, or is she waiting for you somewhere?” Ruelin hesitantly asked.

  “Neither,” Kestrel answered. “She has chosen to stay with the race of southern elves, and to live among them,” he explained. “She specifically asked me to tell you that she wishes to set you free from the obligation to marry her.”

  “She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” Ruelin mused, as Kestrel nodded in agreement. “Yet I’m truly not upset at her choice of another life.

  “You’ve made a profound impact on my life, Kestrel,” Ruelin said. “And now, I’ll get to the point about why I’m not dismayed at losing Moorin.

  “I’m in love with Picco. Once she has her child – your child – I wish to marry her. You won’t object, will you?” he asked, his tone at once conciliatory and combative.

  “If Picco is in love with you, then I can have no objection,” Kestrel said, as he had a momentary image of Picco laughing and sitting on the floor, eating chocolate cake with Margo and Kestrel, flash through his mind. That would always be his favorite memory of the girl, her genuine friendship, able to find happiness even in drab circumstances.

  “She’s a wonderful woman, and you’ll be lucky to have her as your wife,” Kestrel added. “And our child?” he asked carefully.

  “Will be raised as if it’s my own, except that it will not be eligible to inherit the throne,” Ruelin answered, as Kestrel nodded agreement.

  They spoke further, then Kestrel and Ruelin walked back to the parlor after speaking to a servant, where Kestrel’s friends remained waiting anxiously.

  “Let us all go to the audience hall,” Ruelin suggested. “I’ve sent word for all the advisors to come there. I’d like for them to hear Kestrel’s glorious news of the changes in the south, and the end of the Uniontown threat to our nation.”

  Picco walked over to the doorway, and the prince escorted her out in the hall, as Creata held his arm out for Wren to take, and they also walked out into the hall ahead of Kestrel, who followed them to an audience hall where he remembered fighting an intense battle against the forces of Namber and Probst, the former Graylee prince and Uniontown ambassador.

  Minutes later, Kestrel recounted his bare bones message about the defeat of the Viathins and the freedom that would extend to all the nations that had fought or been threatened by Uniontown. Ruelin promised a reception in the palace the following day, and so Kestrel returned to the Graylee embassy that evening with his friends, knowing that he would spend at least one more day in Seafare.

  “When will our child be born?” he asked Picco that evening as they left the dinner table.

  “The doctors say it will be within the fortnight, Kestrel dear. Will you stay to see her?” Picco asked.

  “You still think we’ll have a daughter?” Kestrel asked, pleased by the notion.

  “Absolutely,” Picco answered. “I want to name her Merea, as a tribute to both our own mothers.” She looked at Kestrel anxiously, hoping he would approve of the name.

  He thought of his mother’s name, Merepoule, and Picco’s mother, Madria. It was a nice way to blend the two. “I love it,” he told her sincerely, and put his arm around her shoulder as they walked to the parlor.

  The next day was the reception at the palace, where Kestrel repeated bits and pieces of his story over and over again to every small group that he talked to for several hours, so that he was sure that no part of the story was left untold by the time he left the palace with the others. After that, Kestrel fell into the most relaxed routine he could ever remember having; for the next several days the most arduous part of his day was his morning workout at the armory, battling with Wren and with the others. He found that his spirited contests with his cousin persuaded others to fight against her with greater effort, giving her joy in more challenging matches throughout her session on the mats.

  He strolled through the city during the day, finding quiet pleasure in observing the daily life of the city, until the day when Picco delivered their daughter. Kestrel took untold joy in holding the baby, and when Picco and Creata announced that they were going to take a ship ride back to Graylee to visit their estate, he readily agreed to accompany them on their journey.

  Wren had always planned to be part of the trip, so the four of them sailed back to Graylee, where Kestrel was able to be reunited with Philip, and share the story of his adventures once again.

  After a week in Graylee, Kestrel awoke one morning and knew that the time had come for him to move on. He told Philip that day that he planned to run to Hydrotaz, and agreed to take messages to Yulia. That night he had a sentimental dinner with his friends, and the next morning he began his journey on foot back to Hydrotaz. He traveled in the elven way, running at a quick pace across the coun
try roads, recognizing and reminiscing over many landmarks from his trip with the false Moorin.

  In less than a week he arrived at the gates of Hydrotaz city, arriving as nightfall brought a spectacularly colorful sunset. His increasingly evident elven heritage drew stares in the metropolis that had been so virulently anti-elf in prior times, but he suffered no attacks as he found his way to the small embassy that had been established on behalf of the elven kingdom of the Eastern Forest.

  At the doorway of the stoutly built structure Kestrel asked to see the ambassador, Lucretia. Informed by an unfamiliar elven guardsman that the embassy was closed for the evening, Kestrel asked to see Giardell, with a message from Colonel Silvan.

  He was left waiting on the porch as the door closed and a summons was sent to Giardell. Minutes later Giardell opened the door with a perplexed look on his face, then realized that it was Kestrel, and broke out in an uncharacteristic whoop of delight as he hugged the traveler.

  “You have a message from Silvan?” he asked in a confused tone. “Is it old?”

  “No,” Kestrel laughed. “I just had to find a way to get the guards to take me seriously. They wouldn’t get Lucretia for me.”

  “Where have you been? Have you been in the Eastern Forest any time recently?” Giardell asked as they entered the embassy and sat down in a study. He has a carefully neutral expression on his face.

  “I haven’t been back home in months, maybe a year,” Kestrel responded. “Why?” he asked as he closely examined his friend.

  “Where all have you been?” Giardell started to ask. “No wait, never mind.

  “Kestrel, Silvan was very ill this winter. We just got a message delivered by courier several weeks ago that he apparently had a heart attack,” Giardell explained, and the expression on his face prepared Kestrel for the worst. “A month ago we got the message that he had passed away.

  “I went back for the funeral, while Lucretia stayed here,” Giardell said, then sat quietly as Kestrel closed his eyes and tried to digest the message he had just received, a message that felt like a brutal attack to his stomach. Silvan had been a complex leader, and one Kestrel had not always gotten along with, but he had been like a father to Kestrel, and had set Kestrel on the path of being a spy, a career that Kestrel had never anticipated pursuing.

  “Come on, let’s go see Lucretia upstairs,” Giardell broke the silence that filled the dim room. He stood and led Kestrel upstairs to a cozy room with a small fireplace providing flickering illumination and comfortable warmth against the chill of the late winter evening.

  “What was it dear?” Lucretia asked as Giardell opened the door and rejoined her. “What kind of mix up was that?”

  “The best kind,” Giardell answered with a grin, then held the door wide open so that Lucretia could see Kestrel.

  “Oh Morph and Tamson!” she spoke the names of the elven gods in a breathless whisper. “Can it really be?” she asked as she rose from her comfortable seat next to the fire and shot across the room.

  She embraced Kestrel in a crushing hug, and suddenly Kestrel felt great tears start dropping uncontrollably down his cheeks. He was truly coming home, he realized. Lucretia was a reminder of the Eastern Forest, even more than Giardell had been, a reminder that they both had been young and innocent recruits in the Guard just a few short years prior, unaware of the world that existed with so many threats and dangers outside their insulated forest life.

  The three of them settled into the den and talked far into the night, an intimate conversation among people who knew each other’s secrets and mistakes to varying degrees. They talked with honesty and openness, and Kestrel revealed more to his two elven friends than he had to any other companions, as he talked about the satisfaction, but also the loneliness and lack of purpose the traumatizing quest had left him with.

  “Nothing can match the feeling I had when I was part of the Garrant Spark, that I was going to accomplish a goal or die trying,” he confessed. “But I’m feeling better,” he added. “The farther I go and the more I see friends like you, the better I feel.

  “What will become of Alicia?” he finally asked, as the fire died down to embers and the room grew darker, late in the evening.

  “She’s the best doctor in the Eastern Forest, although she couldn’t save her own husband,” Lucretia answered, as Giardell remained silent, and Kestrel realized that he had stumbled onto an uncomfortable topic. He remembered the affair Giardell and Alicia had shared.

  “I’m ready to call it a night. Is there someplace I can sleep?” he asked immediately.

  Lucretia led him to a guest room. “Will you be able to take me to the court tomorrow to see Yulia?” he asked as they stood at the door. “I have messages to deliver to her from Philip in Graylee.”

  “We’ll make arrangements first thing in the morning, and I know she’ll be doubly happy to see you, for your own sake as well as for the sake of the messages,” Lucretia smiled at him. “It’s good to see you, my friend,” she gave Kestrel a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then left him to an evening of uneasy sleep, as he dreamed of Alicia for the first time in months.

  When morning came, Kestrel and Lucretia hurried to the palace. They were admitted immediately, and Kestrel requested that they see Greysen while they waited for Yulia to find time to see them.

  Both Greysen and Yulia arrived at the same time to meet them in the palace sitting room they occupied. Kestrel immediately handed his messages over to Yulia, then laughed with Greysen and Lucretia as the princess excused herself to sit alone in the corner of the room to read the letters.

  Afterwards, she rejoined the others and shamelessly admitted that the letters were a highlight of her day.

  “But seeing you today Kestrel is the greatest news I’ll have for weeks to come!” she giggled, still giddy from reading Philip’s words. “Philip says that you have accomplished great things, and set us all free from the monster lizards, permanently. Is that true? It must be quite a tale!”

  “It is quite a tale,” Kestrel agreed. “And in some ways I think it all began when your father tried to set that fire in the Eastern Forest so long ago,” Kestrel told Greysen. “Is he here today?”

  “He’s out on a patrol to inspect our troops in the north, as a matter of fact,” Yulia answered for the head of her guard. “He’ll be sorry to have missed seeing you. Can you stay a few days?”

  “I’ve been away from the Eastern Forest for a long time,” Kestrel confessed, “and I think I’m anxious to get back.”

  It was like he was going backwards in time, he reflected the next day, as he left Lucretia and Giardell and began his journey on the return to the Eastern Forest. From Seafare to Graylee to Hydrotaz, each step had been a journey not only through space, bringing him closer to the elven kingdom in the east, but each stop had been a reminder of adventures set at increasingly earlier stages in his evolution from Guardsman to spy to servant of the gods.

  The road to the Forest was an easy one, until he approached a crossroads that was nearly in the shadow of the Eastern Forest’s towering oak trees, and he faced a decision. One road led south into the forest, towards Oaktown, where he had long intended to go, to rest and enjoy the place that he seldom saw, but called his own home. From there he could make a jaunt down to see Dewberry and the imps, and he wanted to see Dewberry more than anyone else.

  Other than Alicia. And Alicia was available for a visit if he took the other road, the route that ran to the northeast to Center Trunk.

  Chapter 24 – Revelation from the Goddess

  Kestrel stopped at the cross roads and agonized over his decision. He could do as he planned, make the trip to Oaktown, and try to accept that he had reached the end of his adventure. Everything would be over, finally. He would be at the end of his long journey home.

  Or he could take the longer road, through Center Trunk. He could go to report to the palace that the threat of the Viathins was over, and that the Eastern Forest could look forward to establishing peaceful rel
ations with its neighbors. He would see the princess, and perhaps have to dodge the ridiculous proposition that he marry her. And he could see Alicia.

  She would be newly-widowed, and he remembered that she would be pregnant with Silvan’s child. She would be glad to see him, he was sure; she had been a friend and a confidant and a partner. She had been Silvan’s wife; she had betrayed Kestrel once, long ago. She had betrayed her own husband once as well. If he were ready to, if he desired to, to try to establish a relationship with her, how would she react?

  Was he even ready to take that step? He was ashamed to admit how quickly the thought had entered his mind after he heard that Silvan was dead. Was it the right step to take, or was he simply trying to find something to fill the empty spot in his soul. He was searching for something. He had found that all the women he had dreamed about had moved on past the time when they might have become his own soul mates. While he had been out in the world, following the commands of the gods, the women had gone on with their own lives – Moorin, Picco, Margo, Lucretia – they were all in new relationships, in lives that promised a better future, benefitting from the sacrifice that Kestrel had made by defeating Ashcrayss and the Viathins, so that his friends and all the world would enjoy a safe place to live.

  He wasn’t ready to see Alicia, not yet. He would go back to Oaktown and take time to return himself to the cycle of life in the Eastern Forest. He would re-accustom himself to living by the rhythms of life among the trees and the elves. He would send a message to Center Trunk, to let them know that his quest was over and his mission was a success. And then, when the time came, when he knew he felt ready, he would take the road to Center Trunk, and see Alicia. And he would discover what future they might have together.

  And, he hoped, he might discover that the sense of emptiness within him would fade away. He hoped he could grow accustomed to living as a nearly regular person. He wouldn’t have great powers, he wouldn’t have missions from the gods. He would only have a life to live like everyone else.